Mike's New Roommate
by FlutteringLights
Summary: Mike, feeling lonely, decides to lease half his apartment to a roommate. Little does he know that the man is completely crazy. Violent crazy. Cue Harvey swooping in and saving the day. Sounds like it would be OOC, but I don't think it is. Let me know, though. One-shot, no slash.


Hello, readers! This takes place in somewhat of an AU, where Mike's grandmother is dead, but Mike and Rachel don't get together afterwards. Based loosely off the episode of Friends with Chandler's crazy roommate. The bird-man-roommate story was found on the internet.

Mike couldn't put his finger on the first time he felt truly alone. Perhaps it was after Trevor, the only friend he'd had growing up, had been evicted from his life. Maybe it was when Jenny left, or when Rachel broke up with him. It could have even been after the death of his grandmother.

He doesn't know when it started, this loneliness, but ever since the first moment it made itself known, the feeling had increased, slowly becoming a more and more pressing, crushing truth. The nights he spent at his apartment were the worst—no grandmother to visit, no girlfriend to sleep with, no friend to get high with. After a few weeks of this, Mike decided he needed a roommate. On Monday, he put an ad in the paper with his mobile phone number attached and waited for someone to call.

_Tuesday Morning_

"Harvey wants to see you," Donna called to Mike as he walked past her desk. Mike nodded and proceeded into the older man's office, where he found said man reading the daily newspaper.

"Is this your ad?" he asked, pointing to what indeed was Mike's ad looking to lease out half of his apartment, nestled right between a _for sale—mattress, barely used_ and a _wanted—kitchen appliances_.

"Yes, it is."

"Why are you leasing your apartment?"

"Half of my apartment, and why do you care? What are you even doing reading the classifieds, anyway? I can't imagine you'd buy something used."

"I don't, and I read them all the time. Sometimes people list interesting things in here."

"Okay. Well, is that all you wanted to ask me? Because if it is,-"

"You didn't answer. Why are you leasing?"

"I figured I could use the extra money."

"That's a lie. You were doing just fine on your own even with the added expense of your grandmother's nursing home."

"Okay, you caught me, can I go now?"

"What aren't you telling me, Mike?" Mike didn't realize it, but Harvey's natural assumption was that the kid was buying drugs again. He'd been grieving, stressed, and alone for a while, and it's not as if he hadn't done it before.

"Fine. I'm renting out half of my apartment because I don't like being there all alone every night."

Harvey was slightly thrown off that his assumption had been wrong, but a bit relieved at the same time.

"Do you really think that renting your apartment to some stranger is a good idea?"

"I'm not going to tell him anything about… you know."

"That's not what I was implying."

"What are you implying?"

_Is that really safe? _"Don't worry about it. So, you really think someone is going to want half of your crappy apartment with you as a roommate?"

"My apartment is fine,_ thank you._ It's one of the nicer ones in the area-"

"An area which is like Gotham City minus Batman."

"_and_ I make a lovely roommate. I keep my stuff clean and I even spring for pizza every once in a while."

"You're a natural housewife."

"Not what I said."

"Anyway, this pro-bono case," Harvey slapped the file in front of Mike, "needs doing. Think you can handle it?"

Mike looks over the file, nodding slightly. "Looks pretty straightforward."

"Good." Mike left the office.

Three hours later, Mike's mobile phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mike Ross?"

"Yes."

"Hi, my name is Damian Blair. I'm interested in renting a room—is yours still available?"

"Yeah, it is! I'd really like to meet with you, when is a good time for you?"

"Does tonight work? Like 7:00?"

"Tonight is fine, but I work pretty late. 9:30 might work better if that's okay."

"That's perfect. I'll see you then." The man hung up without letting Mike say another word.

_9:30 p.m. Tuesday _

That night, as Mike unlocks the door to his apartment, he is startled by a voice from behind him.

"Mike Ross?" He jumps, and looks up to see a tall, average-looking man lurking behind him. "Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. I'm Damian, we talked over the phone?"

"Oh, right, Damian. Hi, it's nice to meet you," Mike exhaled a shaky breath and extended his hand for Damian to shake. "Come on inside."

Damian sat on Mike's couch and watched as the younger man put his briefcase away.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Mike offered.

"No, I'm all right, thanks."

"Okay. So, where do you work?"

"I'm a bartender at Teasers."

"Isn't that a strip club?" Mike smirked.

The man laughed. "They say if you do what you love, you'll never work a day in your life."

"Depends on who you ask," Mike chuckled. He couldn't help but think of his own job, which he did love, but couldn't deny that it was a hell of a lot of work.

"What about you? What do you do?"

Mike interviewed the man for a few more minutes before deciding that he was, indeed, a good match, and offering him the room.

"Great! I'll go grab my suitcases."

"You… brought them with you?"

"I did."

"Uh, all right then. I'll help you out."

"It's fine! It's okay, I mean. There are only two, and they're not heavy."

Mike helped the man move into the previously vacant room, and by the time they were finished, it was nearly midnight.

"Well, I've got to be up early tomorrow morning, so I should get some sleep. If you need anything, help yourself, or come wake me up."

"Thanks, goodnight." And with that, Mike fell into his own bed and slept.

Not an hour later he awakened to a man's voice from outside his door.

"Damian?" Mike whisper-shouted, and there was no answer. The voice just continued speaking. Mike crept to his door and opened it slowly and quietly, peaking through the crack just far enough to see his new roommate, standing in the middle of the living room and reading _The Night Before Christmas_ aloud by lamplight, not in hushed tones.

Mike closed the door over and turned away, blinking and shaking his head. _This is weird,_ he couldn't help but think. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Damian's face in the crack in the door.

"Hey, Mikey, were you staring at me just now?"

"_Jesus!"_ Mike yelped, falling backwards from his squatting position.

"I didn't mean to frighten you. I just felt like you were staring at me."

"No, I wasn't. I heard noises, so I peeked out, but I saw it was you and was about to go back to bed before you gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry about that."

"S'alright. Those three years of life you shaved off probably wouldn't have been great anyway."

"Well, we can avoid these little mishaps in the future. I don't like to be stared at. I could feel your eyes."

Mike gaped for a minute, before nodding. "Noted."

"You go back to bed. I'm going to finish my book."

"Okay, well, could you keep it down a bit? I'm trying to sleep."

"Will do."

He didn't.

_7:30 Wednesday_

"You look like hell. That roommate of yours causing problems?" Harvey remarked upon seeing an obviously sleep-deprived Mike.

"A little bit. I think he might be crazy."

"Come on, it's been one night."

"He reads. Loudly. In the middle of the night."

"Okay, a little weird, but hardly-"

"And then he stuck his face through my ajar door like Jack Nicholson in _The Shining_ to tell me he could feel me staring at him."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"You gonna kick him out?"

"I think I'll give him another chance. Maybe it's just one weird habit, you know?"

"It's never just 'one weird habit.' Trust me."

"Well, maybe he's the exception, Mr. People-Reader."

"Don't come crying to me when he chases you with a bat, Wendy."

_10:30 p.m. Wednesday_

Mike was exhausted. Even his bag felt heavy as he fished inside it for the keys to his apartment door, before realizing the he didn't have to. As he approached the room, he found it to be wide open.

"Damian?" he called tentatively. Grabbing the bat he kept by the door for defense, he scoped his apartment for danger. "Are you home?"

"Hello," came a voice from the kitchen, and Mike whirled around to find a man who was most definitely not his roommate perched atop his refrigerator like a bird, stark naked.

"Holy s_hit,_" Mike cursed, stumbling backwards a few feet. "Jesus, man, who the hell are you?"

"My name is Chris, I'm a friend of Damian's," the man said. At that moment, Damian emerged from the bathroom, wearing only a towel.

"Oh, hi Mike!" he said.

"Get out," Mike said, voice filled with nothing but shock and incredulity. Chris clambered down from the refrigerator and Mike looked away.

"Please cover yourself," he muttered.

"Oh, here, I've got it," Damian said, offering his towel to the naked man.

"Oh my God," Mike sighed, turning around and running a hand through his hair. "Damian, I'm sorry, man, but this isn't working. I hate to do this, but I'm going to have to say you can't live here anymore."

"You're kicking me out?"

"I'm going to go," Chris said, and Mike waved and smiled sarcastically.

"Mike, you're _kicking me out?_"

"Not immediately. You've got a week to pack up your things and find a new place to live."

Damian sighed. "Well, I guess if you think it's for the best…"

"I do. Sorry," Mike apologized, not really feeling sorry.

"It's okay. I'll start looking for a new place tomorrow."

"Thanks. I'm going to sleep, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mike."

_Thursday 5:20 a.m._

Mike slept through his door opening. He slept through the silent footsteps leading up to his bed. He didn't, however, sleep through the fist that connected with his ribs. Letting out a cry of shock and pain, he tried to get out of his bed, but found himself tangled in the sheets, giving Damian a chance to get in two more hard blows to the ribcage before he finally was able to right himself.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Mike yelled once the bed was separating the two men. Damian didn't respond, only lunged forward and punched again, clocking Mike in the left eye and immediately again in the right cheek. After reeling from the rapid punches, Mike began to fight back, getting two good punches at Damian's face before the older man hit him so hard in the back of the head that he blacked out. As Mike went slack at his feet, Damian began to kick.

Unconsciousness only gripped him for seconds before Mike came to, but knew by the dizziness that hindered his coordination, he knew the best defense he had was to retreat. He kicked Damian in the crotch, booked it towards the door, grabbed his shoes, and didn't stop running until he was out of the building and at his bike. It didn't appear that Damian had followed him, but to be safe, he rode all the way to Pearson-Hardman, only stopping twice to put his head between his knees when vertigo made his vision tunnel and blacken.

By the time Mike staggered into Harvey's office, it was nearly 6:00. Harvey was not there yet, so Mike settled for plopping on his couch and sitting, waiting for the adrenaline to wear off.

By the time it did, Harvey was making his way into his office.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" he asked.

"My roommate is crazy," was Mike's response. His ribs were throbbing and he was beginning to think that one or two might be fractured or even broken, and his head still pounded.

Harvey surveyed the bruises on Mike's face and the way he was holding his ribs, and made a deduction. "He beat you up?"

"Yeah. He brought some crazy naked guy into my apartment last night, so I kicked him out. He acted like he was fine with it, but apparently he wasn't, because he tried to kill me this morning."

"Tell me he looks worse than you do."

"I was asleep, Harvey, he didn't exactly give me a fighting chance."

"So you lost."

"When I was finally up and fighting I was winning, but then the bastard knocked me out."

Harvey sighed. "How bad are you hurt, do you need a hospital?"

Mike poked at his ribcage and winced, lifting up the grey T-shirt he had slept in to reveal black and blue bruises, viciously painful looking. "Probably wouldn't be a bad idea."

"All right, you have the morning off. Call a cab and get yourself checked out."

Mike stood, and immediately regretted it. He swayed on his feet and his vision dimmed to black, color draining from his face simultaneously. "I think I might have a concussion," he added weakly.

"Sit," Harvey commanded, sounding alarmingly like he was training a dog. Mike obeyed.

"New plan. I'm calling Ray and we get you checked out at the hospital."

"Sounds good."

"Let's go, Rocky."

The ensuing Stallone impressions were horrible, and lasted the duration of the ride to the hospital.

Harvey waited in the waiting room, catching up on files, as Mike was diagnosed with two fractured ribs, four bruised ones, a black eye, and a mild concussion.

Mike and Harvey hopped into the car once more several hours later, the former with prescription pain medication in hand and in bloodstream.

"Now, let's go kick that roommate of yours out."

Ray drove them to Mike's ratty apartment and Harvey did nothing to hide his disgust. When Mike unlocked the door to find Damian sitting on his couch watching Law and Order, Harvey spoke up.

"Damian Blair?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm Harvey Specter, Mike's boss. I'm told that he gave you a week to find a different apartment and leave?"

"We had a bit of an argument, but I-"

"Yeah, I'm not interested in you. Mike was willing to give you a week, but I'm not quite so generous. You're going to pack your shit up and get out of here within the hour, or you're going to prison for assault."

"Okay, okay. I'm packing, just don't call the cops."

Sure enough, 55 minutes later, Damian stood before them, suitcases packed. Simultaneously, there was a knock on the door.

"Hey, man, you said you weren't going to call the police!"

"I didn't say that."

"You said-"

"I know what I said. It was the only way to get you to get all your shit out of that room. If I'd called the police first, Mike would have had to clean it all up, and he has better things to do," Harvey explained as the officer cuffed Damian.

Mike and Harvey sat on Mike's couch after the police had Damian in custody.

"The lack of damage you did to that bastard was really pretty pathetic."

"I punched him! Did you see his back eye?"

"Have you seen yours?"

"I'd have kicked his ass if it weren't for the fact that I was _unconscious _for both the beginning and the middle of the fight."

"Whatever you've got to tell yourself, Princess. You should take up a self-defense class. I hear they come with free rape-whistles."

"Only the ones for _women._"

"Welcome to the joke, Mike, I hope you enjoy your stay."

"If only you were even half as funny as you find yourself." There was a beat of silence, and Mike sighed. "I'm going to have to move."

"Yeah, that would probably be a good idea. Gonna try to find another roommate?"

Mike laughed, then winced at the pain from his ribs. "Nah, that ship has sailed. I'm better off alone."

"You could get a cat," Harvey suggested, but it was obvious that Mike wasn't in the mood for jokes. It was Harvey's turn to sigh. "Look, I know… okay. Being alone sucks at first, but you get used to it. You _are_ better off that way because _everyone_ is better off that way. It will take a while, but a few years of not having someone to lean on just prepares you for a lifetime of not _needing _someone to lean on."

"I guess that's best."

"It is. You've just got to look at what you _do _have rather than what you don't. You've got Donna and me. I know we're not friends, but… never underestimate the value of having someone you can trust."

Mike simply nodded, knowing that a _"Thank you"_ would be too much of soap-opera moment for Harvey's liking.

A silence settled between them once more.

"Promise me you at least did more than that one black eye."

"Let's just say he'll feel it in the morning."

"Good."

THE END

I wrote this and then decided that I really thought Harvey's perspective on friendship was fitting of his character and his actions late in season two and all through the series. I hope you liked it, let me know what you thought!


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